Precursor
by ThomasThananPenn
Summary: The nineteen rings were created, but what happens when rumor spreads of a twentieth ring which is far more powerful than any of the others? Who created the ring? Why hasn't any person ever been able to find it?... and what will happen if/when it's discovered? Read and follow for more if you like!


**Prognostic Prophetic-ism**

_"Immaculate was the slate, and so the Ainur starved,_

_Satisfied was their hunger by the music of Llứvatar,_

_Energized were the Valar in supreme dictation,_

_And so the Maiar leapt forward to create,_

_From the Istari came wisdom; From Melian sprung love; From Sauron spread malice,_

_And Ardura watched in silence…"_

"So 'twas written and so it was done. Arda bore these creations, and from them grew. Each creation surpassed its own ethereal existence in order to become physical elements…

Wisdom was first- covering valleys low and filling the deepest of crevices… water.

Next was love- often boisterous and flirtatious with the fluidity of wisdom…air.

Last was malice- stagnating wisdom and consuming love…fire.

From these creations stem all things. You'd do well to remember that children. You'd do well to remember that the skies are vast, that the oceans sustain, but also that shadows plague our realm…"

The speaker's fingers creep over linen cloth as glistening young eyes begin to tremble in the twilight.

"All is not well in our kingdom."

The storyteller leans in closer as an arm falls silently beside the nearest child.

"The first two were once greatest…"

The crowd grows darker and the fervor of their anticipation proves to be the last light at dusk.

"However, malice was unceasing in its presence. It polluted the wisdom and love of Arda, not unlike the claws of a wraith slowly wrenching life from the skies 'neath blackened steel. Tis rumored now to pervade the corner of every home… of every heart… "

The words grow enticing as the children lean further in.

"It's simply a matter of when it's going to reach out… and **grab you!**"

Suddenly the man springs forwards from the stool upon which he rested. His deft hands manage to find a child's torso and curl naturally, throwing the child within a safe distance upward as he boasts a yell at his entertained audience. As the feat was planned, he enjoys the child's initial shock and delayed smile while twirling him in the air a few more moments.

Just as quickly as the levity begins to permeate their dark surroundings though, it fades. The giggling and hardy laughter turn into content silence. He places the child gently where he sat before and quietly instructs him to do so once more before relaxing onto the stool in a much less precarious manner. His face turns from a smug grin and he utters forth.

"Well, children, I must be off to bed now. It's grown quite late in the midst of our prophetical reverie. Go now. Leave! Don't forget your things. "

Children scatter among the darkness and find their way home until the fascinated crowd has dwindled to a sluggish and otherwise impolite few. The man chuckles at their simplicity before picking himself up. He dusts off his stool though it surely has no need of it. Turning towards the path he must travel to return home, there is a slight nudge against his lower back. He turns irritably at the inconvenient jab to find a child standing below him.

"What do you want? I told you to go home. It is not safe for one so young to be out so late. Now, leave!"

Before allowing the child to explain himself, the man begins to turn back towards the path. However, he is stopped when the insistent boy jabs his side yet again. Furious at the child's lack of respect the man swings toward the child and leans over him.

"Forget having taught you manners, your parents mustn't have anything of the sort! What is it, child? Please tell me so I may be on my way!"

The child looks toward the ground indignantly, but answers nonetheless in a near whisper.

"I'm sorry sir… I just want to know why you called Arda something else when you were telling the story. You did say Arda, right?"

The child looks inquisitively at the man, having gained the bravery to speak with him face to face once again. However, the man had no answer for the child. His face would have looked cautious and calculating to any more experienced reader of minds, but in the presence of a mere child he felt no danger in taking a moment to think.

"I believe," He pauses, "that perhaps there is more to any mystery than one man should know. Knowledge is power after all, and the more power one holds the more likely one is to succumb to darkness. Since this is not a sincerely appropriate answer to your question, however, I should tell you this: There are forces in these lands; the likes of which we have never seen, nor heard of before…"

_Please review so I know whether to continue or move on to something else (:_


End file.
